


achievement hunter

by MementoVivere



Series: Autism Acceptance Month [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Autism Acceptance Day, Autistic Kozume Kenma, Future Fic, M/M, autism acceptance month, doesn't actually have anything to do with Achievement Hunter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 19:40:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14196303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MementoVivere/pseuds/MementoVivere
Summary: If everyone is different, then no one needs to be normal.





	achievement hunter

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Autism Acceptance Day, fellow autistic folks! 
> 
> This was initially a final project for my autism spectrum support class. Kenma is meant to be an international student at my college in my program, although all references to the actual college have been deleted. After I turned it in, my professor asked if she could use it as an example for why the program is important, and multiple other fandom people in my class suggested that I post it.
> 
> Kenma's experiences are based on my own experience with finding a supportive environment for the first time, so if anything he says doesn't jive with your life or preferences that's why, we're all different people and all that jazz. It's also not up to my usual standards of fic, but I wanted to get something posted for today.
> 
> Warnings for minor internalized ableism.

It’s a peaceful kind of evening. It’s been raining all day, which makes the world soft and muffled. Classes weren’t terribly difficult, and now Kenma is home in in the tiny, tiny apartment he and Kuroo are sharing, curled up in the corner of the couch playing his game.  Next to him, Kuroo is FaceTiming with Yaku, and between their hushed conversation and the sound of the rain beating against the window, it feels as though the rest of the world has been blocked out by white noise, like time has stopped in the messy little overseas apartment.

He’s perfectly, blissfully zoned out until he hears his name.

“Hey, do you want to talk to Kenma?” Kuroo is asking loudly, and even half-asleep, it doesn’t take Kenma too long to assess the situation. Kuroo is looking back and forth between Kenma and his phone screen the way someone might look if they found a tiger in their kitchen. On the phone screen, Yaku looks as if he’s just been interrupted, and when Kenma thinks back he realizes that the sound of Yaku’s voice in the background had been slowly increasing in volume.

 _Help me,_  Kuroo mouths, and Kenma reluctantly pauses his game and stands up. It’s the least he can do to take over one Team Mom lecture (probably about the state of their apartment or their lack of sleep), especially when Kuroo has already followed him to another country just so that Kenma could participate in an International Student program.

        “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” Yaku says as Kenma crawls into Kuroo’s lap. “You’re foisting me off on Kenma to distract me from both of your complete inability to take care of yourselves, and—Hi, Kenma,” he adds when Kenma gives him a little wave.

        “Hi.”

        “How are you liking America?”

        It’s a complicated question. Kenma needs time to come up with an answer, thinking over everything that’s happened here and how he felt about it, categorizing his experiences into good things and bad things and things that are both or neither. He must have been thinking for too long, though, because Yaku asks if the connection is broken.

        “No, you’re fine, he’s just thinking,” Kuroo says, and drops a kiss on the top of Kenma’s head. Kenma shrugs.

“You know, I’m very far away,” says Yaku, a touch of humor in his voice, “and my phone screen is very small. I’d appreciate it if you tried to actually _talk_ to me.”

        “I miss my cat,” Kenma offers. It’s true; Saria is back home in Tokyo, and he misses her decidedly more than his family.

        “O…kay,” says Yaku, the way he does when he feels like he’s missed something. “What’s your school like?”

 _That_ Kenma can talk about.

        “There’s a class for people like _me_ ,” he says. He’s still in awe after several weeks that such a thing exists at all. “Not trying to make us like everyone else, either, but actually to help us.”

        “People like you,” Yaku repeats. “You mean…”

        Kenma nods. “It’s _okay_ here,” he says softly. “ _I’m_ okay here.”

        They still don’t call it by name. For all that his new classmates try to convince Kenma that there’s nothing wrong with him—for all that he _wants_ to believe them—it’s hard to make peace with a word that’s been used all your life to tell you that you’ll never be capable of anything, a word that means eighteen years of hiding from other people and hating yourself and feeling broken. Maybe one day he will. For now, he’s making peace with himself instead, because he’s finally found a place where it’s normal to be different, even if it means he has to be surrounded by loud, confusing Americans speaking too-fast English.

        “We’re allowed to be how we are,” he adds, trying to find a way to make Yaku understand—because everything is different now, everything is _better_ now, and it feels like if he can’t express it he’s going to burst. “Even if it makes things harder, or if it means we have to do things differently from other people. If you have trouble, they’ll _change_ things for you, did you know that? And if you don’t understand things in class, you can ask about them. During class, even. And…and I get it now. Things make _sense._ I can do real-people things. I actually kind of _want_ to do real-people things. I never thought I would.”

        “Real-people things?” Yaku asks, clearly confused—but he’s smiling. He might not understand, but Kenma thinks Yaku is proud of him anyway.

        “If we never come back, you know why,” says Kuroo, grinning, and Kenma feels his arms wrap around him. He _knows_ Kuroo is proud of him. He doesn’t have to ask.

And he’d never admit it, but Kenma is proud of himself too.

That’s the most important thing, they say. You know yourself better than anyone else; you know when you’ve made an accomplishment. Don’t let others devalue your victories; don’t let them impose arbitrary rules on you. Just because you were afraid, or because you needed help, or because you didn’t do a flawless job doesn’t mean you weren’t successful.

It’s harder than it sounds, sometimes, but if there’s one thing Kenma is good at, it’s unlocking achievements.

**Author's Note:**

> #walkinred


End file.
